You moved, I moved. To now, to open boxes containing pictures of us, shiny, smooth, smelling of paper dust, the sugar-free scent of today. Lollipop colours; I shut my eyes to hear your voice, see flickers of hair, eyes, fingers, to try to taste but...

Now you are my friend from. My friend who. You who live, over there, away over the curve — further than the blur, the smudge, the dot that is coming. The full stop.